


to intervene between me and this monster

by PoisonedMind



Series: Spooky Week 2018 [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Supernatural Elements, an unlikely friendship, dan’s a sad kid, mentions of bullying, monster!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedMind/pseuds/PoisonedMind
Summary: Phil gets assigned to Dan, a lonely human child. In theory, Phil has no reason not to fulfill his duty of being the scary monster under the bed. In practice, however, Phil has always been a little special and as it turns out, there might just be something about Dan that makes Phil not feel so alone himself.And Dan? Dan just knows there’s something under his bed.





	to intervene between me and this monster

**Author's Note:**

> Right! The last fic of Spooky Week 2018! This isn’t really a horror fic but I guess it fits the theme of Halloween. I’ve come to really like this and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Title from The Monster by Eminem ft. Rihanna)

Phil has always been a little special. Special in a way that usually earns him a scolding or disdainful looks, special in a way that usually leaves him without any friends, special in a way that has somehow lead to him ending up in this disastrous situation. 

A situation where he’s currently hiding deep in the shadows under a human child’s bed. 

He knows the Authorities wanted to get rid of him but he thinks that this is just a little bit cruel. 

Okay, actually he thinks this is a very cruel thing to do. He’s supposed to scare the human child and he knows he’s not a very terrifying monster. He knows, because he’s been reprimanded countless times on how not-scary he is to his victims. He just doesn’t have the same urge to scare as the others do. He’s always been a little special like that.

There’s one more problem with this whole thing, though.

Phil is _terrified_ of humans. 

And the Authorities know it.

Assigning him a case to get him away is one thing but knowingly assigning him a case involving a _human_ child? Phil thinks that definitely crosses the line. But, well, they are monsters after all. 

Phil figures that if they can do this to him, he has every right to ignore what he’s supposed to do here and just try to survive without ever letting the human child know there’s a monster living under his bed. 

The human child. 

His name is Daniel, Phil knows this. He also knows that Daniel isn’t as young as human victims usually are. Which is probably why Phil was assigned to him. The older they are, the more terrifying they are, at least according to Phil. But he also quickly learns that Daniel is kind of a weird human. 

He never brings any friends into his room with him. Phil always thought humans were supposed to be social beings, but Daniel certainly isn’t. Instead, he’ll be pacing his room and talking to himself, too low for Phil to hear distinctive words, but loud enough that he can recognize the tone. And it’s never a happy one. Phil will be hiding in the shadows as he follows socked feet around the floor and it’s almost hypnotizing, back and forth, back and forth. 

Occasionally, it’ll be hours before Daniel stops and crawls into bed.

And...

He cries sometimes. Often, actually.

When Phil hasn’t even tried to scare him. That’s probably the thing about Daniel that puzzles Phil the most. 

He cries silently, as if he’s afraid someone might hear him, and it’s taken Phil a few nights of listening to his ragged breathing and low, muffled whines that sometimes escape before coming to the realisation that the little human above him is trying to cry the sadness out of his body. 

The realisation has somehow made Phil’s fear of the human a little more bearable. A little less intense. Made space for a seed of curiosity to take root and grow. Daniel is just a peculiar little human, Phil figures.

It’s different tonight. 

Phil can hear voices but they’re not coming from within the room. They sound like they’re from downstairs, muffled by walls and doors. Daniel is usually in his room by now, sitting at his desk by the computer or lying in bed. 

Phil doesn’t know how much time passes before the yelling quiets down and Daniel storms into the room, slamming the door behind him. 

The sound reverberates in the wall behind Phil. 

He just stands there, in the middle of the room, and Phil can see his hands shaking at his sides. Phil creeps forward just slightly and Daniel’s chest comes into view. He’s taking deep breaths, in and out, in and out, but it doesn’t look like he holds any control over the air he’s gulping down. 

His hands are still shaking. 

Something clenches deep inside Phil.

After what feels like hours, Daniel seems to snap out of it, clenching his fists until his knuckles turn white. He walks over and flops down onto the bed and Phil scurries back into the darker shadows, bumping into a forgotten teddy bear. 

Then he hears him sobbing. 

It’s loud and ugly and unlike anything Phil has ever heard before. 

It sounds like sadness lives in the boy, is him. Like he speaks the language in whimpers and moans, fluent in the wet sorrow. It makes the something inside Phil grow bigger, stronger, tugging on him. 

Phil doesn’t know what to do with that. 

He would like to make the pain go away, though. He would like to hear what happiness sounds like from Daniel instead. Because Phil’s always been a little special and Daniel is just a peculiar little human, Phil figures. 

Daniel’s hand is hanging over the edge of the bed, still shaking. He’s almost touching the floor with the tip of his index finger. 

Phil crawls forward just a little bit. Maybe it’s because he wants to stop the shaking or maybe it’s because of something else entirely, but Phil slowly reaches out and touches his hand to the human’s. 

It goes absolutely rigid under his touch, and silence explodes around them. 

Phil doesn’t dare move. 

Then Daniel whispers, “Who— who’s there?” into the darkness but Phil can’t answer. Instead, he lets go of his hand and crawls back into the safety of the shadows. He bumps into the teddy bear again and because the tugging inside him hasn’t gone away yet, Phil grabs the bear and pushes it slowly towards Daniel’s hand. The moment the soft fur touches Daniel, a high pitched yelp cuts through the heavy silence and the bed shakes and creaks and Phil jumps back and buries himself in the black of the shadows. 

Silence persists for a few minutes until Phil can hear Daniel move again. He must be looking out over the edge of the bed to see what touched him because he suddenly whispers, “Bear! Where have you been?” and a hand reaches down to pick the teddy bear up off the floor. 

Phil thinks Daniel must’ve finally fallen asleep, but then he hears a soft, “Thank you,” said from above him. 

The tugging is gone, Phil discovers.

It’s gone until the next night. 

Daniel is crying again and this time there’s no hand and no teddy bear and Phil is at a loss of what to do. He tries to think about happy things, _puppies, puppies make everyone happy, right?_ And he tries to push the thoughts to Daniel. Clumsy puppies, happy puppies. There’s a soft snicker sounding from above. 

“I want a dog,” Daniel mumbles and Phil is startled by the sudden speaking. “At least a dog wouldn’t judge me because I’m me. Would it?” There’s a long pause before Daniel sighs. “I would probably end up killing it somehow, anyway. Dogs deserve better.”

Phil doesn’t understand why Daniel keeps putting himself down like that. He hasn’t known him for long but he feels absolutely certain that Daniel would be a great dog owner. So he closes his eyes and tries to convey exactly how happy a dog would be in Daniel’s care. 

It seems to distract Daniel from crying and soon enough, Phil can hear soft snores coming from him instead of soft whines. 

So Phil continues to do it. 

Every time Daniel cries, Phil pushes thoughts of puppies and dogs, happy and wagging, to him to fill his mind with instead of the heavy sadness. 

Every time Daniel speaks about being unwanted, lonely, sad, Phil pushes thoughts of a future full of happy dogs that Daniel calls his own to him instead. 

Every time Daniel whispers about the things the other children call him, voice wavering and cracking, Phil can feel the something inside him tighten its grip and tugging more and more. 

And maybe Phil is also finding something in being able to cheer Daniel up. Maybe Phil is beginning to enjoy the happy giggles whenever he manages to push a thought of a really clumsy dog into Daniel’s mind. And maybe wanting to make a child happy instead of scared is not exactly what a monster should do, but then again, Phil has always been a little special. 

Daniel sighs, long and drawn out, as if the weight of the world had rested upon his shoulders that day. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just breathes. Then his hand comes into view, hanging off the edge of the bed. It’s the first time he’s let it fall off the edge since Phil had touched it that night weeks ago.

“I wonder if I really am going insane.” He speaks so quietly that Phil can barely hear him so he shuffles closer to the edge of the bed. 

The hand is hanging limply just in front of him.

“Mum says I should be more mature than to make up imaginary stories about monsters under my bed.” Daniel’s voice cracks and Phil thinks he might be on the verge of crying. “But… I know someone’s here. I know you’re here. At least I’m pretty sure…” His voice trails off and he sounds so unsure. 

Phil crawls just a little closer. 

“You— you are here, right?” It’s spoken in a voice full of uncertainty and doubt and Phil doesn’t like the way it sounds. He shakily reaches out and touches his hand to Daniel’s. 

Daniel gasps but then he tentatively opens his palm and spreads out his fingers.

“I know you don’t want to hurt me. Right? You don’t.” The uncertainty is gone, replaced instead by confidence. 

Then he whispers, “You’re just as lonely as me, aren’t you?” and it feels like the something inside Phil finally slides into place and he grabs Daniel’s hand, clutching it in his own because it _hurts._

And maybe Daniel’s hand is warm and nice and a little bit comforting. Daniel squeezes back.

“I’m Dan,” he whispers. It sounds like he’s trying to fill the silence surrounding them. It sounds like he’s trying to figure out what to say when there’s suddenly someone willing to listen to him. Phil wishes he could tell Dan that he doesn’t have to say anything at all. 

From then on, they hold hands almost every night until Dan’s grip falls slack and Phil knows he’s asleep. And Dan is talking more and more every night and Phil notices that sometimes it’s not about his parents, sometimes it’s not about how useless he is, not about the children at school. 

Sometimes it’s about a dog he met on his way home, “It licked me in the face, so cute, oh my God, but its breath was horrible; absolutely lethal, I’m telling you.”

Sometimes it’s about a game, “The graphics, man, I wanna live in that world, except the giant spiders, they’d be a nightmare, but the dragons, how cool would it be to live in a world with dragons?”

Sometimes it’s about nothing specific but Phil pushes dumb thoughts and weird images into Dan’s mind and he laughs, “Oh my God, my brain is so weird tonight, I wish you could read my mind so you’d know what I mean.”

Sometimes it’s Dan sitting in the chair at his desk and looking out the window and telling Phil how beautiful the sunset is. 

Then one night he whispers, “Who are you?” and then, “What are you?” 

The words seem to manifest within Phil, cold and clammy, gripping his insides and squeezing hard until a stinging pain starts in his middle. 

He rips his hand from Dan’s grasp and backs away into the corner where the shadows are darkest, safest. Because he’s a monster and he’s living in the shadows under a human child’s bed. Because he’s supposed to scare the child, not befriend it. Not try to comfort and make it happy. 

And he’s definitely not supposed to feel guilty when Dan stammers out, “Sorry! I’m— I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

Dan doesn’t ask again. And Phil doesn’t creep out to the edge to hold Dan’s hand even though Dan keeps hanging it over the edge of the bed, a silent apology written along his spread out fingers, begging to be accepted. 

One morning, days later, Phil finds himself face to face with a couple of big, brown eyes staring deep into the shadows under the bed and he shrinks so far back into the blackness that it almost hurts. 

Dan is down on all four and he’s staring so intently that Phil is wondering whether he actually is visible to human eyes. Which is a terrifying thought. Phil shudders.

Suddenly, Dan jumps up and Phil startles and bumps into the wall behind him. Dan freezes at the low _thump_ , hums, then sprints out of the room. Phil is confused. And scared. 

Only minutes later, he finds himself dancing back and forth trying to avoid the vacuum because apparently Dan has decided to clean under his bed today which he hasn’t done since Phil arrived. 

And then Dan is kneeling again as he vacuums the corners under the bed, all the while staring directly into the shadows and Phil feels very exposed as he moves to avoid the offending machine. 

Rationally, he knows that Dan can’t exactly see him because Phil lives in shadow. For Dan, the shadows are probably just moving slightly, as if a light behind him were swinging maybe. Yeah. That’s probably the rational explanation the rational human brain will come up with. 

Except Dan is still staring as he stops vacuuming.

“Aha!” He exclaims. “I can’t exactly see you but I know you’re there!” and there’s a thread of glee woven into the words somehow and a little crack is forming in Phil’s resolve.

That night, Dan’s hand is hanging over the edge again. But so is his whole head. And he’s starting to sound a little funny as he rambles on about everything and nothing. Phil thinks it’s all the blood rushing into his head, hanging like that. But maybe it’s also because he’s trying to make Phil come back again. 

Dan eventually lies back on his pillow but his hand is still hanging over the edge. 

Phil waits until Dan’s breathing has slowed before he creeps forward and sneaks his hand out and curls his fingers around Dan’s. 

Dan squeezes back but doesn’t say anything. 

The next night, Phil doesn’t hesitate as he crawls toward the edge and reaches up to hold Dan’s hand and he’s sure he can hear Dan’s voice almost cracking with joy as he whispers, “Hi! Welcome back!”

Minutes pass and then he says, “I kinda missed you, you know?” and Phil can feel the crack in him grow bigger. 

“It’s a little weird, though. I know you’re there, I don’t doubt that anymore.” He taps his thumb gently against Phil’s hand. “I just wish I knew your name. Can you tell me your name?”

Phil truly wishes he could. Instead, he grips Dan’s hand a little bit tighter and tries with all his might to think _Phil, my name is Phil, PhilPhilPhilPhil_ at Dan. Dan sighs and for a split second Phil thinks he did get the thought across to him but then he says, “Hmm. I guess not.” 

Phil feels like he’s full of lead and he’s slowly sinking. He doesn’t know why but he wants Dan to know his name. 

“I’m just gonna name you then. You can squeeze my hand for no if you don’t like the name, okay?” Dan’s thumb taps Phil’s hand again. Gently. Again and again and Phil doesn’t think Dan’s even aware he’s doing it. 

“How about… Striker?” Phil squeezes hard. “ _Ow_!” Dan yelps. “Guess not. Dibbit? Ow. Okay, maybe something more normal then, huh?”

Phil gathers all his strength and pushes the thought _Phil_ at Dan. 

“Hmm… I don’t know why. Like, I _really_ don’t know why, but, uh, what about… Phil?” 

Phil tries everything to not move his hand one bit.

“You like that?” Dan sounds amused and Phil supposes ‘Phil’ probably isn’t the first name to pop up when one thinks to name a monster. But, well, Phil’s always been a little special.

“You can squeeze my hand twice if you’re okay with Phil.” Phil squeezes twice. 

“Okay,” Dan says. “Okay.” 

Some minutes pass in silence then Dan whispers, “Hi Phil,” and Phil gently squeezes just a little bit and for just a little longer. 

The crack grows bigger inside him.

It’s nice after that. 

Dan talks to Phil as if Phil is truly his friend. He laughs and he cries but Phil notices how the happy days seem to take over, slowly but surely. It makes Phil feel lighter, makes him feel like his insides are swirling, dancing together. It feels good. Phil likes being Dan’s friend.

He finds it an odd thought that he was scared of Dan before. Because Dan isn’t scary. Dan is nice. And funny. And he doesn’t understand when Dan tells him about how the other kids in school treat him because Dan is sweet and caring, why can’t the other children see that?

Occasionally, when it’s a bad night and Dan is crying, he will tell Phil about the group of boys who call him stupid names and sometimes throw rocks after him. That’s when Phil suddenly feels something ignite inside him, burning bright and ugly, and he gets a true desire to actually terrify humans. He’s never felt that urge before.

It’s different tonight. 

Phil can hear voices but they’re coming from downstairs, muffled by walls and doors, but he can still make out three distinct ones. Dan’s is one of them. They’re shouting, loud and full of anger. And sadness. Dan’s is full of the heavy sadness Phil thought he had helped lift off of him. 

Phil doesn’t know how much time passes before the yelling stops and the door to Dan’s room opens and then slams shut behind Dan.

The sound reverberates in the wall behind Phil. 

Dan just stands there, in the middle of the room. His hands are shaking at his sides and Phil creeps forward just enough to see Dan’s heaving chest come into view. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Dan once told Phil he sometimes can’t control his breathing when he gets very upset. He had said it was scary and that it sometimes hurt a little bit, too. It looks like it hurts a lot right now.

His hands are still shaking. 

Something tightens in Phil’s middle at the sight and the crack inside him grows bigger.

After what feels like hours, Dan clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white and then he walks over to the bed. But the feet don’t disappear as Dan crawls into the bed. No, suddenly there are knees on the floor and hands and arms and then Dan’s eyes are looking into Phil’s. 

Except Dan wouldn’t know that, right? He can’t see him. 

“Phil?” Dan whispers and there are tears on his cheeks and in his throat, making his voice waver and mushy, and it rips at the growing crack inside of Phil, rips at either side, making it grow bigger in chunks as teardrops fall to the floor. 

Phil reaches out a hand and places it on top of Dan’s.

Dan sobs loudly then. 

He throws himself down on the floor and pushes and moves and Phil scrambles back as far as he can and suddenly Dan’s all the way under the bed and he’s _right there_. If Phil moves just a bit he’ll be touching him. 

“Why can’t I just be normal, Phil? Why can’t I be normal so they will stop calling me those things? Why can’t I be like everyone else so my parents will finally be proud of me? At least acknowledge me, maybe.”

The crack grows bigger again with every word Dan weeps. Until it stops and it feels like everything inside Phil fissures. Then it feels like he breaks. 

Phil decides then and there that Dan shouldn’t ever strive to be normal because Phil can see how it only leads to sadness, and Dan’s the best and most special human Phil’s ever met. Granted, he hasn’t met a lot, but he’s absolutely certain that no one measures up to Dan. He decides then and there that he wants to do everything he can to make Dan happy. Because Dan deserves happiness. 

He decides then and there that he’ll never leave Dan. That he’ll move and live in every shadow around Dan, that he’ll bury himself in Dan’s own shadow, stretch it and make it bigger because Dan is _so much_ and someday he’ll become extraordinary. Phil decides that then and there. 

Dan will be happy and a source of light and Phil will be his shadow. 

Dan has stopped crying. He’s just lying there in silence under his bed. Phil moves forward, wrapping himself around Dan in what is supposed to be a hug and Dan whispers a hoarse, “Thank you, Phil.”

Phil decides then and there that Dan just needs a friend. And Phil will be that friend, everything be damned. 

He’s always been a little special like that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! So this is the last fic of my Spooky Week 2018 series. I've really enjoyed doing this and I hope I've managed at least a bit of spook as my goal for doing this was to challange myself in the horror genre. This specific fic isn't really horror but it originated from a horror prompt and then just took on a life of its own and I ended up kind of liking how it turned out :)
> 
> If you liked this fic, you can give it a cheeky [reblog/like](https://bie-lovers.tumblr.com/post/179633397231/to-intervene-between-me-and-this-monster) on tumblr if you want to! :)
> 
> I'm [bie-lovers](https://bie-lovers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to say hi, but no pressure lol :)  
> 


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